


Everything you'll ever need

by Frumious-Bandersnatch (NeverAndAlways)



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, Family Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-16 06:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13630359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/Frumious-Bandersnatch
Summary: Just an idea I've been rolling around. I haven't found any mpreg yet in this fandom, so I figured I'd write my own. Hope you like it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because I know I'm going to get questions: this fic is an AU, similar to the omegaverse. About 10 - 20% of men in this 'verse are 'carriers' -- basically omegas, but without the pack dynamics.

"Barnum, for the love of god, would you  _please_ get some rest?" Lettie calls across the tent.

"Sometime in the next year, maybe?" Tom adds over his shoulder.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," P.T. assures them both, and continues to bustle around regardless. Stopping to talk to the snake charmer, questioning W.D. about something or other, then onto something new. He's always like this before a show; even the extra weight that the past nine months have added can't slow him down, it seems. Lettie rolls her eyes and goes back to combing her beard. But, when P.T's orbit leads him past her, she doesn't miss the opportunity to throw on the brakes, either.

"Barnum." she doesn't have to raise her voice; she knows he can hear her. He stops in mid-stride and wheels around.

"Yes?"

Without looking up from her hand-mirror, Lettie pats the space on the pallet beside her. "Have a seat."

He throws on his winning smile. "I'm just making sure everyone's ready --"

"Carlyle can do that. Sit down."

"Lettie --"

 _"Sit. Down."_ he sighs and obliges. Looking at him in her mirror, Lettie catches just a glimpse of fatigue before his mask slips back into place. "You're no good to anyone if you wear yourself out, Barnum. Least of all yourself, and  _least_ of all the baby."

"I know, I know." P.T. braces his hands on his lower back and stretches, pushing his belly out a little more and illustrating Lettie's point. He's had to buy three new vests since he became pregnant, and now even this one is looking a little tight.

"Lettie, we're on in thirty." Anne seems to appear out of thin air, striding past them with her costume billowing behind. Then she does a double-take. "Mr. Barnum? Are you alright?" she seems puzzled to see him sitting down.

"Well, I don't know," P.T. answers smoothly. He turns to Lettie with a mischevious glint in his eye. "What do you think, doctor? Am I alright?" when Lettie makes a  _tsk_ sound and doesn't answer, he throws his winning smile on again. "I'm fine. Just taking a break." Anne nods and continues on her way, leaving the pair in a bubble of relative quiet. Lettie adds one last finishing touch to her beard, then puts away her comb and mirror.

"So."

"So?"

"How long are you going to keep running yourself ragged like this? You said it yourself, you can't have more than a week left to go."

"Well, if I had my choice," says P.T, leaning back to massage his belly, "I would keep working until the day the stork arrives. But with you and Phillip around, I might not be allowed to."

"Allowed? Barnum, you can do whatever you want. You'll be the one suffering the consequences, not us."

P.T. laughs lightly. "I like your honesty, Lettie."

She smirks. "Do you?"

"Barnum? Need a hand over here!" someone yells. P.T's smile has a wry edge to it now.

"No rest for the wicked," he says, and heaves himself to his feet. Lettie shakes her head and goes to get her costume.

 

* * *

 

The thunder of applause gives way to a dull rumble as the audience starts to disperse for intermission. Anne and W.D. lower themselves down from the rafters. Charles goes to get his horse's nosebag. And P.T., unnoticed for once in the crowd, slips away backstage. First he goes to O'Malley and takes him aside for a quiet word; the man's eyes widen slightly at what P.T. has to say, and he hurries away out of the tent. Then, finally, he has a minute to himself.

A storage crate is as good a chair as any; he sits down and allows himself a moment of relaxation. He  _hurts._ He's been hurting all day, but it's much harder to ignore now. He takes off his hat, giving a nod to a passing performer, and sets it beside him. His belly is growing tight and painful. As the feeling spreads around to his back, he clenches his jaw and tries to keep a straight face.  _Breathe, Phineas. Remember to breathe._ God, Charity is going to have a thing or two to say about this...

"Barnum!"

A smiling face peeks through the tent flap.  _Good lord, Phil, not now._ P.T. plasters on a smile even as the cramp subsides. "Phillip!" he says brightly. "Just the man I wanted to see."

Phillip doesn't seem to hear. He steps through the tent flap and holds it open. "You've got visitors, Phineas."

"Phillip, I --"

"Daddy!!"

Helen and Caroline come boiling toward their father. The girls' smiles are contagious; he can't help but grin as they barrel into him.

"My goodness, fancy seeing you here!" he wraps them up in a hug, as best he can around his belly. "Did you girls watch the show?"

"Yeah!"

"Phillip brought us!"

"Did he? That was very nice, I hope you thanked him."

An awkward silence. The girls turn to Phillip and chorus a rather sheepish "thank you". He nods in return.

"You're very welcome."

Before they can say anything further, P.T. puts a hand on both their shoulders. "Girls, why don't you go say hello to Lettie? I bet she'd love to see you." he nods toward the opposite wall, where the bearded lady is sitting and chatting with the snake charmer. They dart away in her direction. As soon as they're out of earshot, P.T. turns his attention to his partner.

"Phillip." he says the name quietly enough to carry through the noise and sawdust.

"Hm?"

"Can you..." P.T. starts, and hesitates. "I need you to take over for the second act."

"Take over? Why?" Phillip's brow furrows. P.T. gives him a long, level stare and waits for the proverbial penny to drop. He can see the color drain out of his partner's face when it happens. "Good lord, Phin, you're not...?"

"I am. The carriage is still hitched up from this morning, so I've asked O'Malley to drive me home." P.T. smiles gently at Phillip's tight-lipped concern. "I'll be alright, Phil."

His partner gives him a thoughtful look. "How are you so calm?"

P.T. laughs, or tries to. "Believe me, I'm not."

Across the tent, Helen and Caroline squeal and giggle; the snake charmer has draped a Burmese python over Helen's shoulders, and the scaly gentle giant is nosing curiously at her hair while her sister looks on. Phillip's smile becomes more genuine at the sight of them.

"Keep an eye on them for me?" P.T. asks, getting to his feet.

"Always." Phillip snags a single kiss before P.T. can get away. The showman takes his hand and places it on his belly, and Phillip grins with giddy excitement. And maybe a little fear. This may be P.T's third child, but it's his first time actually carrying. And it's a a first for Phillip, as well. "This is it, huh?"

"This is it." P.T. tries to keep his voice level; another cramp is building. He needs to get out of here.

"Barnum." as if on cue, O'Malley slips through a flap in the tent wall. "Ready when you are."

"Thank you, O'Malley. Just a moment," says P.T. The cramp is reaching its peak. He steals a kiss back from Phillip to buy himself some time, but not enough; his legs are a little shaky as he makes his way over to the door-flap.

Phillip watches his partner disappear through the tent wall. He suddenly, fiercely wants to go with him. Even in this day and age, childbirth is dangerous. If anything were to happen to Barnum...

But he has other things to worry about now. He picks up the tophat from its crate, brushes off some sawdust, and is about to put it on when he sees Anne watching him a few paces away. Her expression is scrutinizing at first, but when she catches his eye, she smiles. He musters a tight-lipped smile in return and puts on the hat. It's showtime.

 

* * *

 

The show's been over for hours. Everyone's relaxing backstage, enjoying some downtime before bed. Tom, W.D., and Constantine are playing cards. Lettie is off in a corner, singing to herself while she takes off her makeup and lets her hair down. In another corner, Phillip, Anne, and the snake charmer are with Helen and Caroline. Helen and the Burmese python have become inseparable; when it curled up to sleep, she laid down with it and pillowed her head on its coils. That was an hour ago. She's still there, and now the snake has draped its tail over her. She dozes -- under the snake charmer's watchful eye -- while Anne teaches her sister to play cat's cradle. Phillip sits nearby, fidgeting with the tophat. 

"...Right, then up and over, and put that loop over your thumb."

Caroline looks at the tangle of string wound around her fingers. "Are you sure this is supposed to be a sunset?"

Anne laughs. "Just wait. You'll get there. Now, put your middle fingers into the loops over your index fingers --"

"Ladies?" the snake charmer's voice cuts through the dusty air. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but it seems you have a visitor."

Standing at the door-flap is a boy, no older than eleven. He looks in need of a bath, and he's breathing heavily as though he's just been running. Anne walks over to him.

"Can we help you?"

"Message from...Mrs. Barnum...ma'am," the boy pants. "For a --" he checks the scrap of paper in his hand "-- a Mister Carlyle?"

"That's me." Phillip goes to stand beside Anne. The boy holds the scrap of paper out to him, and scutters away down the street as soon as he takes it. Phillip unfolds the paper and begins to read, and a smile spreads across his face.

"Carlyle? What is it?" asks Lettie. The whole tent is watching now. Phillip doesn't answer directly; he turns around to where Helen and Caroline are looking on expectantly.

"Girls, how would you like to go meet your new sister?"

 

^^^^^^^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment -- I'd love to hear from you!
> 
> (One more chapter to go, so stay tuned!)


	2. Chapter 2

It's a cold night; Helen and Caroline are clinging to Phillip, one on each side, as they approach the house. When Charity meets them at the door, the girls hang back behind Phillip's coat, suddenly shy.

Charity smiles. Her sleeves are rolled up, her hair is unraveling from its loose bun, and she looks worn out, but at the same time she's glowing. She ushers them inside, and all three immediately peel off their coats and scarves.

The first words out of Phillip's mouth, to his surprise, are about P.T. Maybe it shouldn't be a surprise.

"How is he?"

"Everyone's fine." Charity links arms with Phillip. She might not have a romantic attraction to him like P.T. does, but she appreciates that he makes her husband happy. She's welcomed him without question. "It was...difficult, but he did very well," she continues. "He and the baby are just resting now. Would you like to go and see him?" this last question she directs to Helen and Caroline. They nod mutely.

The bedroom doors are half-shut, but there are busy rustlings inside. Charity knocks and pulls the door open. Inside, the curtains are open and the lamps are turned down. The fireplace is burning low. The midwife -- a short, cheerful-looking old woman with a face like a dried apple -- casts Phillip a curious glance. He inclines his head respectfully. A faint coppery smell hangs over the room. The cradle sits at the foot of the bed; there's a bundle inside, and the sight of it makes his heart jump, but something else has caught his attention. The occupant of the bed is lying on his back in the middle of the rumpled blankets, seemingly unconscious, and looking as haggard as Phillip's ever seen him. Even after the fire, P.T. didn't look as utterly wrung-out as he does now. Phillip sits down on the mattress. P.T's breathing quickens almost imperceptibly.

"Barnum? You awake?" Phillip whispers.

The ringmaster groans. "No." his voice is rough, as it sometimes is after a big show.

Phillip snorts with amusement and lays his hand over P.T's. "Phin. It's me."

Now P.T. opens his eyes. Slowly, almost as if he resents having to do so. But when he sees Phillip, his expression softens and he breathes a 'hello'.

"'Hello', yourself. How do you feel?"

"Awful. Tired and sore and missing more blood than I'd like to be." P.T. scoots himself higher on the stack of pillows behind him. He tries to sound upbeat, but the movement makes him wince. "How was the show?"

"Constantine is still late on his entrance, but everyone performed beautifully."

"Of course they did," P.T. says, with a smile that's only a fraction of his usual.

"I'm told you also did very well."

The smile turns into a wry smirk. "Did Charity tell you that?"

"Yes."

"She exaggerates."

"I doubt it."

"Mm. You try giving birth, and see how lively  _you_ feel afterward."

P.T. lays his head back on the pillows and shuts his eyes, as though winded by the conversation.

"I hope it was worth it, at least," Phillip adds, half-joking. P.T. smiles and opens his eyes just a little.

"Absolutely." his voice is still rough, but he sounds absolutely sincere now. None of his showman persona. Just Phineas. "D'you want to meet her?" Phillip smiles so wide at this that he can't get any words past it, but it's answer enough for P.T. He nods toward the cradle.

Charity is standing at the foot of the bed now. Somehow his legs carry him over toward her, and he finds himself standing at the cradle, looking down at his daughter. Their daughter. A moment later, with some coaching from both his partners -- support her head, hold her close to your chest -- the newborn is in his arms. She squints at him with eyes the color of blueberries.

"Well, hello." he says quietly. He didn't know it was possible to be happy and terrified at the same time. "Aren't you incredible."

"She looks just like Helen did when she was born," says Charity. It's an afterthought, directed to no one in particular, but it still catches her husband's attention.

"Speaking of," he chimes in, "where are the girls?"

Phillip and Charity look around. The midwife has already left, but there are two small figures hovering at the door. Charity walks over to them; they exchange a few words that Phillip can't quite hear. Then she shepherds them gently toward the bed.

"Hello, you two," says P.T. His smile is tired, but warm. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay for the whole show."

Helen and Caroline look back at their mother. They look more shy than Phillip's ever seen them. Charity urges them forward. Caroline perches on the edge of the mattress, then Helen follows suit. One more moment's hesitation, then they practically fling themselves at P.T. for a hug. There's a muffled 'oof' from underneath the tangle of arms.

"I missed you too," he wheezes when they finally release him. "I hope you weren't too worried about me."

"No, they've been making friends with the snake charmer's animals," says Phillip.

"Have you really?" P.T. feigns astonishment. The girls don't answer; their focus is elsewhere. They've noticed the baby. "You know," their father points out, "now that you've met a Burmese python, meeting a baby should be no problem." Helen glances back at him. He nods. "Go on. She won't bite."

"Here --" Philip walks over to where the girls are sitting and joins them on the edge of the mattress. Now that the baby's at close range, they seem more curious. They lean in for a closer look. "What do you think?" asks Phillip.

And the floodgates open. Suddenly emboldened, the girls let loose a stream of questions and comments. Phillip tries his best to field them, but he's quickly bowled over.

"She's so little!"

"Why is her face like that?"

"She's all wrinkly."

"What's her name?"

"She looks like that potato Caroline found in the garden last week."

P.T. shuts his eyes again and sinks into the pillows. He's too exhausted to deal with that much enthusiasm. Charity intervenes instead.

"Girls. One at a time." they mutter an apology and fall silent. "Her name is Pauline," Charity continues patiently, "all babies look like that at first. You both did."

Caroline wrinkles her nose at this, but leans in nonetheless to study the baby's face. Helen keeps her distance.

"She's  _ugly."_

"Helen. Be nice."

Their voices wash over Phillip. Now there's a name to put to this little face, and he's hypnotized.  _Pauline._ He pulls back a corner of the blanket and takes her tiny hand in his own; it uncurls and grabs hold of his thumb. His heart tries to jump out of his chest. All at once, the reality of it hits him: this is his child. His daughter. He's a _father_.

Downstairs, the clock chimes, and Phillip is yanked back to the present.

"...and let your father get some sleep. He's had a long day."

P.T. is snoring softly. Helen and Caroline each say a quiet 'goodnight' -- to both Pauline and their father -- then allow Charity to lead them out of the room. Charity pauses in the doorway and looks back at Phillip.

"Will you be alright here while I put the girls to bed?" she asks. Phillip feels a brief wash of alarm at the idea that, to his surprise, quickly settles. He nods.

"We're fine."

Charity flashes a gentle smile and clicks away down the hall. And for one huge, brief moment, there's nothing else in the room but Phillip and the baby. His surroundings trickle back in a moment later -- the fire crackling, P.T's snoring -- but that feeling is still there.  _His daughter_. The word runs circles in his brain as he looks at the newborn, who stares back with stern but myopic disapproval.

Looking back, he's always surprised that this is where his life ended up. P.T. and Charity and the girls, the circus and all the rest of it. But right now, sitting with his baby in his arms and his partner asleep beside him, he can't imagine being anywhere else.

 

~*******~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment -- I'd love to hear from you!

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment -- I'd love to hear from you!


End file.
